


A Thought on Hands

by sailboatsupernova



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types
Genre: Conversations, Gen, Humor, Original Character(s), Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 04:20:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15210863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sailboatsupernova/pseuds/sailboatsupernova
Summary: A conversation, a joke, and holding hands.





	A Thought on Hands

**Author's Note:**

> was only gonna post on tumblr cause it's short and what. but then my brain said "no" so now it's here. 
> 
> Quick intro to Pyshael: he's a human passing, male presenting member of an alien race that I made up but haven't named. The species has no concept of gender but he considers himself trans so that's why that's tagged. He's a big part of Dympha's later arc which will probably never get written down, but he's so beyond in love with Dympha and he's one of like three people Dympha's ever given a shit about, and that's basically love for the good doctor.

“You have lovely hands, doctor.” 

“I am no longer a doctor.” 

Pyshael hummed noncommittally, ignoring what Dympha said as he studied the hand he held. The fine bones, the thin veins, twisting beneath blue skin. A rare sight, the man without his gloves. Long spindly fingers that reached out from his palm - uncovered, exposed. Unguarded in a way that made Pyshael’s heart flutter - he had to force himself not to bring the hand to his lips. 

He settled instead on subtly pressing a thumb along a vein, feeling his pulse. 

“A surgeon’s hands.” 

Dympha hummed back in response, equally disinterested. “I chose the right profession then.” 

Pyshael snorted and let go of Dympha’s hand. He started to pull his own back but fingers clamped down around his wrist like a vice. Not hard enough to hurt, but the grip was firm enough to dissuade any ideas about pulling away. He relaxed against the grip, allowed the other man to twist and turn his hand how he saw fit. 

“How odd.” 

“Hm?” 

“You do not have the hands of a scientist.” 

That startled a laugh out of Pyshael. “Of course I do.” He grinned. “I keep them in a jar underneath my bed.” 

Dympha let out a quiet huff - aha, almost a laugh! - and dropped his hand. 


End file.
